A Change in Routine

It’s been three weeks since my parents forced me to come to this school.

Three weeks of pretending I don’t notice the staring.

Three weeks of wishing I could disappear.

My shoulders hunch as I walk. My gray sweatshirt hides my figure, helping me make myself small.

I feel eyes on me—see lips moving, though I can’t tell what they are saying.

The cochlear implant helps sometimes. In quiet spaces. One on one.

Not here — not in a hallway packed with people, noise bleeding into noise until it all becomes nothing.

I don’t want to know what they’re saying.

I make it to my locker.

Phase one of the day complete - no incidents.

I open it and reach for the books I’ll need for my morning classes.

Then -

A presence.

A shadow falls over me.

Before I can turn around, my backpack jerks hard, nearly pulling me off balance.

No. Not now.

I spin around.

Two girls stand too close. Their mouths move, stretched into cruel smiles. I try to read their lips.

Pathetic?

Little girl?

Maybe.

Then I see it.

A small cat keychain, dangling from one of their fingers, its pink fur faded from age.

It’s mine. I've had it for years

They ripped it off and now they're mocking me.

Students stare. Phones half-raised, mouths open.

No one helps.

Without thinking—without planning—I reach for the keychain.

A mistake.

She lifts it out of my reach and shoves me back.

My shoulders hit the locker.

I slide down to the floor, pain radiating through my back.

The keychain swings from her fingers above me.

I reach for it again without thinking.

She steps back. The shape of her mouth tells me she is laughing even if I can't hear it.

The other one says something. They exchange a look.

Whatever it is, it's funny to them.

I pull my knees to my chest as the hallway slows.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

At least I don’t have to hear the laughter. Just a dull buzz.

Then -

The pressure changes

I open my eyes.

There’s a boy standing between us.

Tall. Blonde hair that almost looks white under the fluorescent lights.

He’s saying something to the girls.

I watch their faces shift as he speaks.

Their expressions falter.

Unease flashes across their faces.

The keychain is handed over.

They leave without looking back.

The boy kneels in front of me and holds out the keychain in his open palm.

His blue eyes lock onto mine.

Too intense.

Like he’s studying me.

I take my notebook from my backpack, my hands shaking as I scribble quickly.

Thank you.

I turn it toward him so he can read it.

Something shifts in his expression.

Before I can react, his hand reaches out, brushing my hair aside—exposing my cochlear implant.

What is he doing?

I smack his hand away and scramble to my feet.

I grab my bag, clutching the keychain tight.

People are still staring.

I don’t wait.

I turn and run.

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Morning classes blur together.

I do what I always do—watch the teacher’s mouth, miss half of what’s said, feel the irritation from the student beside me when I ask what page we’re on.

It’s exhausting.

By the time the lunch bell rings, my head aches.

The cafeteria is loud in a way I feel rather than hear.

Tables packed with students.

Hands waving.

Mouths moving too fast.

Normal teenage things.

Things that don’t include me.

I take my usual seat in the far corner, where no one else sits.

I pull out my lunch and my math book. Eating and studying at the same time keeps my hands busy.

Keeps my mind quiet.

I take a bite of my sandwich and stare at the first problem.

Then—

The table vibrates.

I look up.

He’s sitting across from me.

The boy from the hallway.

Those eyes again.

My stomach tightens.

I open my notebook and write carefully.

Can I help you?

I turn it toward him.

He reads it. Smiles.

Then, slowly, he raises his hands. His wrinkled button down shifts under his hoodie.

His movements are hesitant. A little stiff.

“Do you sign?”

My breath catches.

Not just that he’s signing—but that he’s asking me.

I sign back automatically.

“Of course I do.”

He blinks, then a small grin crosses his face.

“I thought so. I’m… a little rusty.”

I hesitate before replying.

“It’s been a while?”

He scratches the back of his neck. His hands hesitate for a moment.

“My grandmother was deaf. I learned when I was younger.”

I tilt my head. Studying his hands.

“You’re doing pretty well, considering.”

His smile widens.

“Thanks.”

For some reason, my chest feels lighter.

Just a little.

“So… can I help you?”

He blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

“You ran off this morning before I could talk to you.”

My fingers still as I find the words, then continue.

“Sorry. You startled me when you…”

My hands slow.

“…touched my hair.”

I glance around the cafeteria.

People are definitely watching.

He grins, eyes flicking around the cafeteria as he follows my gaze.

“I don't think anyone else here knows what we are saying.”

I sink lower in my chair.

My hand motions become smaller.

“Still. Everyone is staring.”

“So?”

“It's just…a lot.”

His expression softens.

“I’m Ren”

His hands move slowly and deliberately as he spells it out.

“R – E – N.”

“I'm Callista.”

I return the favor, carefully spelling my name.

His face brightens.

Again, those eyes.

“Cool name.”

I feel heat creeping up the back of my neck.

“Thanks.”

“So when did - “

A vibration buzzes through the table.

Students begin rising from their seats.

The bell must have rung.

I stand quickly, packing my things and slinging my bag over my shoulder.

Ren looks at me surprised - almost disappointed.

His hands move quickly.

“Wait… you're leaving?”

“Lunch is over.”

The cafeteria is still half full.

Too many people. Too many eyes.

I give him a polite smile and a small wave before turning away and heading to my next class.

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The final bell rings.

I don’t wait. I head straight for the exit.

The walk home is my sanctuary.

No bus.

No crowds.

Just me.

I turn the corner, leaving the school grounds behind.

I’m free.

I’m safe—

There’s a sudden tug on my backpack.

The morning events flood back.

I spin around, ready to defend myself.

It's him.

Again.

“What are you doing?”

My signing is fast, flustered.

He looks startled, trying to follow my hands.

His hands move slowly, hesitant.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't know how else to get your attention.”

“Well…not that way.”

I inhale slowly.

My hands follow.

“Why are you here?”

“You keep running off.”

“Because we have classes.”

That grin appears again.

His hands move a little more fluidly now.

“I see. Walking home?”

My eyes narrow.

“Yes?”

“Which way?”

I point.

Why am I shaking?

His eyes gleam.

“Cool. Me too. I'll walk you home.”

My hands tremble more.

“You don't need to. I do this everyday.”

He tilts his head, studying me.

“Really? I’ve never seen you.”

Then he shrugs.

“Well, I’m going this way anyway.”

He starts walking.

Hands in his pockets.

Like this is nothing.

My feet move before my brain catches up.

We walk silently side by side.

I glance sideways without meaning to.

Ren is looking ahead. Hands in his pockets. 

Completely at ease in a way that should be annoying.

But isn't.

He catches me looking.

I face forward immediately.

My ears warm.

He doesn't say anything.

Neither do I.

Halfway to my street, my hands finally stop shaking.

I feel… almost comfortable.

Eventually we reach the top of my street.

I stop.

Ren notices and turns towards me.

My hands raise, but my eyes look down.

“This is my street.”

He looks down the road, then back at me.

I glance up.

Those eyes again.

“Do you have far to go?”

He hesitates.

Then his hands move again.

“No. Next neighborhood over.”

“Oh. That's good.”

“I would feel bad if you went out of your way.”

He looks in the direction of the way we were walking then back at me smiling.

“Don’t worry about it. Like I said, I live in the area.”

I pause.

Then sign softly.

“Have a good night.”

His expression softens.

“You too.”

He walks away and turns the corner without looking back.

I stand there for a moment.

I hope tomorrow is normal.

It has to be.